All or Nothing
by demon sloth
Summary: Zarek runs from Thanatos but when Jess finds himself standing over his friend, he can't pull the trigger. His decision to help not only changes both their destinies but reveals secrets that were never supposed to be revealed. Zarek/Sundown slash


Huh. Well, this was unexpected. Seriously, I'm supposed to be writing the next chapter of any _one_ of my other stories that I have on the go at the moment.

But I'm fickle and have a short attention span! WordsinRain – don't kill me? Please? I'll make you _cupcaaaakes_… (Pssst! Take the sugar bribe! Taaaaake iiiiiiiit!)

* * *

><p>Disclaimer: Dark-Hunters are the brain-child of Sherrilyn Kenyon but the world needs dark-hunter slash.<p>

Warning: Language, blood drinking, violence and slash. If none of this is your cup of tea then please, please, _please_ do us both a favour and don't read it. You won't enjoy it and then you'll get upset and complain and then I'll get upset and just…no. Let's save us both the drama, eh? :D

Also – because Sundown's book isn't out yet, I took the liberty of creating my own back story for him which will be explained in the course of the fic. So if you're reading this _after_ the book, then there are probably going to be major discrepancies but I'm not going to change it just to make it canon.

Pairing: Zarek/Sundown (Jess Brady)

Summary: After Zarek runs from Thanatos he doesn't get very far, collapsing soon after from pain. Sundown chases after him, but when Jess finds himself standing over his friend, his shotgun in his hand, he finds that he just can't bring himself to pull the trigger. Instead, the split-second decision to help changes not only their destinies, but drags out secrets that were never supposed to see the light of day.

* * *

><p>You've got all that I need,<br>We're looking at all or nothing  
>Babe, it's you and I<br>With you I know that I'm good for something  
>So let's go give it a try<br>We've got our backs against the ocean  
>It's just us against the world<p>

~ _All or Nothing_, Theory of a Deadman

* * *

><p>Pain.<p>

It was all encompassing, causing Zarek to stagger as he ran straight into one of the worse snowstorms he'd seen in a long time. The snow flurries swallowed him whole, turning the world white and dampening every sense.

Left turned Right, Up turned Down until it was all he could do to put one foot in front of the other and pray that he hadn't turned around and was heading straight back into the path of his pursuers.

Eyes squinting against shards of ice that were doing their best to blind him, he silently cursed the loss of his scarf. It must have come off in the scuffle with Thanatos. He could _feel_ his skin and lips blistering in the cold. Pretty soon, he'd have frostbite enough that his whole _face_ would drop off. Bringing up his arm, he scrubbed it across his cheeks and nose, hoping that the friction would encourage _some_ blood flow.

It probably didn't help that his coat was practically frozen.

And still, he staggered on.

His breathing was ragged, harsh in his own ears as he panted through the agony, blood speckling his breath and chin with every exhale, staining his lips. He could feel it drip onto his chin, just before the icy chill froze it.

That shotgun blast must have peppered his lungs. _Gods_, it was a miracle that he could even _move_. He could feel his blood running down his back, soaking into his coat. There was even too much of it for it to immediately freeze, trickling onto the snow where it left a pretty trail of rubies for any one of his attackers to follow.

Ha! He was leading them to him!

_Nowhere to run, nowhere to hide._

And what the fuck were the odds that all that shrapnel missed his spine?

Pretty fucking high, he'd guess. Though whether that was lucky or not remained to be seen. Maybe it would have been better to just lie down and die like a good little dark-hunter.

But there was a part of him, a small part to be true, that was viciously whispering _why_. Why should he do what they want? He'd followed orders all his life and look where that got him.

It had still got him punished as a slave. It had gotten him killed. And when he'd been banished up here, he had stayed and endured _hell_ – just to follow orders.

Well _screw that_! He was dead either way. There were so many people after his ass right now it was fairly ridiculous, but only a matter of time until one of them caught up with him.

And if not them then Ash or Artemis.

He wasn't going to make it easy for the bastards, though.

For once, he was going to take a stand. Say 'Fuck You' to the world. And if it only bought him a few more minutes of life? Well, he could deal with that. But there was no force in the universe that could get him to walk meekly to his death.

So he was running. Running like a coward. Like a frightened animal. But that was what he was, wasn't he? Not human, never human.

Zarek chuckled at the thought. Or, at least, he tried to. But he choked on his own blood, coughing so hard that he tripped and landed face-first into a snowdrift.

The pain was unbelievable and he blacked out for a few minutes. When he came to, his entire body was numb. He tried rolling over, tried pushing himself up, but the pain had him screaming and the frozen blood on his back cracked whenever he moved, bringing with it a fresh wave of fiery agony as the shrapnel shredded his muscles and lungs even more.

It was all he could do to scuffle his head to the side so he wouldn't suffocate himself in the snow.

Zarek was so cold that the ice under his cheek wasn't even melting.

He blinked slowly, staring as the storm intensified, the snow starting to cover him as he lay dying.

So this was it.

After all that.

After he vowed to himself not to lie there and let them kill him and here he is, lying there as he was slowly buried alive. His body hidden until spring's thaw revealed his tragic end and the weak sunlight finally erased the last part of him.

Though there was some small comfort in the fact that it wasn't a person that was killing him but the _weather_.

The corner of his lips curled up in a small smile. A blister bursting at the action; the liquid inside dribbling over his lips and chin where it promptly froze.

He supposed that he could let _nature_ kill him. Circle of life and all that.

The wind picked up for a moment and Zarek could feel his eyes ice open. In the distance the howl of a wolf echoed eerily. Zarek didn't even try to work out why he could hear that and nothing else; he didn't have enough energy, though he did absently wonder if it would eat him once he'd died.

It could probably sense that there was dying food out there in the storm. Maybe it would find him. Could a wolf track bleeding prey in this type of weather?

He'd left enough blood behind for it if it could.

And, Zarek mused as darkness edged into his vision, at least _something_ should get something out of his death.

Too bad there was no afterlife for him. Not that he had anyone waiting for him on the other side. Eternity as a shade. Fuck.

But he could probably go out in daylight again. No skin to feel the warmth but the _colours_…

He could…live with…that…

* * *

><p>Sundown cursed as the shotgun slammed into his shoulder on the recoil. Damn thing kicked like an unbroken stallion. Give him a Glock any day, or a revolver if he was going to be sentimental about it.<p>

Squinting, he peered forward through the snow that had just started up to see if he'd actually managed to hit him. Ruthlessly, he quashed the guilt that bubbled in his chest.

The wind died down for a moment just in time for him to catch Zarek, who was _still_ standing, turn from the figure at his feet and take off running into the storm.

Sundown cursed again, and took off after him, sparing only the slightest of glances for the man clutching his jewels.

He knew Zarek. Counted him as a friend. And if there was one thing he could give his friend, it was a pain-free death by his hand.

He'd be hell-damned if he let any other bastard get their hands on him and torture him before killing him slowly.

Sundown hunched his shoulders so that more of his face was covered by his scarf and kept running. He was surrounded by white. It was enough to make a guy go crazy. But beneath his feet he could make out the furrows Zarek had made as he ran.

And between the two grooves Sundown could see a trail of blood.

Maybe he'd hit him after all.

Again, a bubble of guilt rose in his chest, threatening to choke him. Who shoots a friend in the back? It was bad form.

Even for him.

Especially for him if you took into account the fact that he swore never to do that very same thing and the way he'd died.

Sundown shook his head to dislodge the memories and turned his attention to the trail at his feet. The trail that was rapidly being covered over. A quick glance behind him showed that the snowfall had already erased the blood and was filling in their tracks.

Good. No one would be able to follow them. He could do the deed without a fucking audience.

And wouldn't half those bastards be disappointed at that.

He dropped his gaze, focusing solely on finding his friend. He had to run, otherwise his guiding line would disappear under fresh snow and he'd be stranded out here in the middle of nowhere.

And God knew he didn't want that.

But running in loose snow was proving harder than he expected. Each time he lifted his foot, the powder gripped it, causing him to trip several times as he waded forward.

He wasn't used to this kind of exercise. Give him flat open plains and a horse to ride any day.

And this snow! It was like something didn't want him to find Zarek. But that was stupid. It was just a storm. A freakishly intense storm, but a storm nonetheless.

He wouldn't let it deter him. He _couldn't_.

Pressing on, Sundown ignored the way his thighs burned with the effort needed to move. The stitch that made breathing agony, the way he was shivering and the fact that he was so cold that his very _bones_ ached.

If he got frostbite from this he was going to demand compensation.

Eventually the blood started to peter out; going from huge splotches to scattered droplets.

Sundown didn't know if that was a good thing or a bad thing.

A wolf howl cut through the screaming of the wind, sending another shiver skittering down Sundown's spine – but one of trepidation rather than cold.

Something clamped around his heart.

Suddenly it became so much more imperative to find Zarek. He didn't know why but he _needed_ to get to him before that wolf.

He picked up his pace, practically flailing as he lurched onwards. He'd feel grateful that there was no one there to see him make an ass out of himself but desperation was choking him. It was all he could do to remind himself to breathe.

His scarf slipped down his neck as he ploughed through the snowdrifts but he didn't have the time to push it back up. Instead he let his face numb as he concentrated on the ground.

There was no more blood. Only two shallow depressions that were, even now, becoming shallower.

Sundown let out a noise of frustration. He was close, damn it! He knew he was close!

The wind picked up even more until it felt like he was pushing against a brick wall whenever he tried to take a step forward. And still he didn't give up.

Okay, he was starting to believe that there was something seriously wrong with this storm. He shouldn't be having this much trouble trying to push through some wind.

Unless…unless his dark-hunter strength was being sapped from him without him noticing because of the damn cold. That would mean he was close. Which was probably a good thing as Zarek's tracks had been completely covered over.

As he soon found out he _was_ close, being as he tripped over Zarek's snow-covered body and face planted into a snowdrift.

* * *

><p>Well…that was new. First pure dark-hunter fic - and a serious one at that. Ha, let's see how long I can keep <em>that<em> up.

So? What did you guys think? Should I continue or just let it languish in my pile of unfinished stories :P


End file.
